SAN ANTONIO — We're missing our sports. The athletes are missing their fans. And, our stadiums are missing the cheers, groans and exuberance.
There's just something about stadiums, about backlot sandlots, high school basketball courts and the AT&T Center. Even when they stand empty, seemingly devoid of life, they're very much alive.
We marvel at their stature, their shape, the grand stage they always seem to become on game days. You can't deny the rush that you feel deep down; we do give our stadiums the utmost respect. Don't you give that quick glance every time you drive by? How can you not?
But there are no games this week, this day, most likely not for this month. It's not that it feels strange; it very much does. They stand silent, but you can almost hear them calling out. Calling for us.
For the time being, there are no stretching doubles into triples, no goals in the 90th minute and no state championships to celebrate. Those are game days. But this is today—a day when the stadiums serve as a solemn reminder of what are now seasons suspended.
But they stand ready, our stadiums do, to welcome us back, eager with anticipation for how we can help make it great. And we're anxious too, more so than ever. More anxious than we perhaps even know to visit our homes away from home.
Because there is just something about stadiums.